Stones and Shadows

I stepped out of the bathroom, the sickly heat still clinging to my skin despite having retched most of my insides into the sink. Vivi was waiting, leaning casually against the small desk where the needle case rested, their arms crossed and signature smirk tugging at their lips. It didn’t reach their sharp green eyes.

“You look like shit,” Vivi said bluntly, pushing off their desk as I approached. “Actually, that’s not strong enough. You look like you were scraped off the bottom of someone else’s shoe and left out in the sun.”

“Thanks,” I muttered dryly, running a hand through my damp hair. “Really needed that boost to my confidence.”

My best friend ignored the retort, their expression softening as they stepped closer. “Come here,” they murmured, pulling me into their arms before I could argue.

I stiffened for half a heartbeat, the lingering adrenaline and pain still running hot through my veins, but then I let myself melt into their embrace. Vivi’s warmth was grounding, their steady hands rubbing small circles against my back. “You’re pushing too hard again,” they said softly, their voice barely above a whisper.

“I have to,” I replied, my words muffled against their shoulder. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Vivi countered, their grip tightening for just a moment before they pulled back enough to meet my gaze. “And you can choose to sit down for five damn minutes before heading into that ORA room.”

“Vivi—”

“No arguments,” they interrupted, guiding me to their cot. “Sit. Cuddle. Decompress. I’m not letting you walk in there looking like you’ve been dragged through hell and back.” I let out a soft sigh but didn’t resist as they pushed me down onto the cot. Vivi settled beside me, their arm draped across my shoulders as they leaned in close. “There,” they cooed, their tone softer now. “Isn’t that better?”

I nodded reluctantly, the tension in my shoulders easing as I leaned into their touch. “I don’t say it enough,” I murmured after a moment, my voice quieter now. “How much you mean to me. How much I… rely on you.”

Vivi arched a brow, their smirk returning. “You getting all sentimental on me now? Thought we left that on your balcony.”

“I’m serious,” I said, managing a strained but genuine smile as I glanced at them. “You’ve been there for me through everything, even when I didn’t deserve it. And… I don’t know how I’d do any of this without you.”

Their smirk softened into something warmer, their fingers brushing against my arm as they leaned their head against mine. “You’re such a sap,” they teased, though their voice was full of affection. “But I’ll allow it. Just this once.” We stayed like that for a while, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten as we sat tangled together on the cot. Vivi’s presence was steadying, their quiet strength a balm against the chaos that always seemed to follow me. Eventually, though, the moment had to end. The clock on the wall ticked louder in my mind, the looming shadow of the assessment pressing down on me once more.

“I need to go,” I said softly, pulling back just enough to meet their gaze.

Vivi sighed, their hand lingering on my arm for a moment before they nodded. “Yeah, you do,” they admitted, their voice tinged with reluctance. “But you’ll be fine. They only wanna push you around for decking the rich kid anyway.” I gave them a small, grateful smile before standing and grabbing my jacket. Vivi watched me go, their eyes following my every move as I stepped out the door and into the long, winding corridors outside.

---

The assessment room was as sterile and unwelcoming as I remembered. White walls, harsh fluorescent lighting, and a single metal table in the center of the room with two chairs on either side. Two assessors were already waiting, their dark business suits a stark contrast against the clinical backdrop. Their faces were blank, their expressions unreadable as they turned to watch me enter.

“Please, take a seat,” one of them said, gesturing to the chair opposite them. Their voice was calm, almost unnervingly so.

I sat down, keeping my posture relaxed despite the tension coiling in my chest. The second assessor flipped open a file, their eyes scanning the pages with mechanical precision. “Raku,” they began, their tone just as measured as their colleague’s. “Let’s start with the basics. State your name, rank, and designation for the record.”

“Raku, no family name,” I replied evenly. “Field Operative assigned to Alpha Squad, designation 1-2, ‘Tats.’”

The assessors exchanged a brief glance before the second one spoke again. “And how would you assess your current readiness for active duty?”

I hesitated for the briefest of moments, the lingering heat of the runes on my arm a stark reminder of how precarious my situation was. “Ready,” I said finally, my voice steady. “As always.”

The assessors didn’t react, their gazes sharp and unyielding. The first one folded their hands on the table, their expression still unreadable. “Let’s address the elephant in the room, then. Your altercation with another squad member, Paul Vexwell, during a training exercise.”

I felt my jaw tighten but forced myself to stay calm. “If you’re referring to Vexwell,” I said evenly, “that was dealt with. He crossed a line, and I reacted. It won’t happen again.”

“Crossed a line is one way to put it,” the second assessor said, their lips twitching faintly. “Knocking out your squad’s medic during a controlled training scenario isn’t exactly standard protocol.”

“Neither is repeatedly spewing human supremacist garbage in front of nonhuman operatives,” I countered, my voice colder now. “If you’re going to question my actions, at least acknowledge the full context.” The room fell into a tense silence, the assessors’ gazes sharp and calculating. I could feel the weight of their scrutiny, the unspoken judgment hanging heavy in the air. My left arm throbbed faintly, the runes pulsing beneath my skin like a warning.

The first assessor cleared their throat, breaking the silence. “Mind your tone, 1-2. Regardless of context, your actions reflected poorly on Alpha Squad’s cohesion and professionalism. We’ve noted this incident in your file, and we’ll be watching for any further… disruptions.” Noted in my file. Of course, it was. Paul Vexwell’s family practically owned half the city. Rich, old money types who didn’t like their precious son being roughed up, no matter how much he deserved it. The fact that he’d been assigned to Alpha Squad in the first place was probably a favor to his father, some attempt to “build character.” All it had done was sow resentment and distrust.

“Understood,” I replied finally, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.

The second assessor nodded slightly, their attention shifting back to the file in front of them. “Now, let’s move on to the next phase. Physical readiness. You’ll proceed to the training floor and follow the outlined tasks. Do you have any questions?”

“No,” I replied, my voice steady. Wouldn't be my first rodeo, after all.

“Good,” the first assessor said, gesturing toward the door on the far side of the room. “You’re dismissed. Report to the training floor immediately.”

I stood, keeping my movements calm and measured despite the tension simmering just beneath the surface. As I turned toward the door, I could feel their eyes on me, their unspoken judgment following me like a shadow. My chest felt tight, the heat of the new runes pressing harder against my healing skin as I made my way toward the training floor. The training floor was a cavernous space, its high ceilings and reinforced walls giving the impression of a military coliseum. Rows of equipment lined the edges, everything from standard weights and punching bags to more advanced apparatuses designed to simulate combat scenarios. The center of the room was dominated by a series of obstacle courses, their pathways illuminated by cold, harsh light.

A trainer stood waiting near the entrance, a clipboard in hand and a stern expression that immediately reminded me of my days as a recruit. She nodded at me as I approached, her eyes flicking over my form in a quick, clinical assessment. “Operative Raku,” she said, her voice clipped. “You’ll follow the course as outlined. Complete each station to the best of your ability. Failure to meet the minimum standards will result in immediate reassessment of your operational status. Understood?”

“Understood,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest.

“Begin at station one,” she said, gesturing toward the starting line of the obstacle course. “You’ll receive further instructions as you progress.” I nodded and made my way to the starting line, my body already protesting from the strain of the morning. The petrification had stopped spreading, thanks to Vivi’s intervention, but the lingering heat of the runes still burned beneath my skin, a constant reminder of how precarious my situation was.

The first station was a standard endurance test: a sprint through a maze of barriers, low walls, and narrow tunnels. I crouched slightly, my muscles coiling as I prepared to launch myself forward. The trainer blew her whistle, and I moved. The obstacles came fast, each one demanding precision and agility. I vaulted over walls, ducked under low beams, and twisted through tight spaces, my breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts. My body moved on autopilot, years of training kicking in as I navigated the course.

But the new runes weren’t making it easy. Every movement sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through my arm, the healing cracks in my skin pulsing as if threatening to split open again. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus on the path ahead. By the time I reached the end of the station, my heart was pounding, and sweat dripped from my brow. The trainer gave me a curt nod as she marked something on her clipboard. “Next station,” she instructed in her annoyingly monotone voice. The second station was a strength test: a weighted dummy that had to be lifted, carried fifty meters, and then dragged back. The dummy was heavy—easily over a hundred kilos—and awkwardly balanced, its weight pressing against my already aching muscles.

I gritted my teeth as I hefted the dummy onto my shoulders, the strain making my vision blur for a moment. The runes burned brighter, the black unlight casting faint shadows on the floor as I started moving. Each step was a battle, the weight threatening to pull me down with every movement. “You’ve got this,” I muttered under my breath, forcing one foot in front of the other. The words were as much a reminder as they were a plea. I couldn’t afford to falter here. Not now.

The distance felt endless, but I finally reached the halfway mark. I set the dummy down with a thud, my arms trembling as I repositioned it for the drag back. The return trip was even worse, my legs screaming in protest as I pulled the dead weight across the floor.

When I finally crossed the finish line, my knees nearly buckled. The trainer didn’t give me time to recover. “Final station,” she said, gesturing toward a series of targets set up on the far side of the room. “Accuracy and precision.” I nodded, wiping the sweat from my brow as I made my way to the firing range. A weapon was already laid out for me: a sleek, high-caliber rifle designed for both close-quarters combat and long-range precision. I picked it up, the weight familiar in my hands, and took my position. It wasn't my beloved shotgun, but it would do.

The targets lit up one by one, their positions randomized to test reflexes and accuracy. I adjusted my stance, my breathing steadying as I lined up the first shot. The rifle kicked against my shoulder as I fired, the shot hitting dead center. The second target popped up, then the third, each one appearing faster than the last. My body moved on instinct, the rifle an extension of myself as I fired again and again. But as the test progressed, the heat from the runes began to flare again, the unlight growing brighter in my peripheral vision.

By the time I hit the final target, my hands were shaking, and my vision was starting to blur. The trainer didn’t seem to notice—or if she did, she didn’t comment. She marked something on her clipboard before giving me a curt nod. “You’re done,” she said. “Wait here for your debrief.” I set the rifle down, my chest heaving as I leaned against the wall. My entire body felt like it was on fire, the strain of the tests pushing me dangerously close to my limit. But I couldn’t let it show. Not here. Not in front of them.

The two assessors from earlier entered the training floor, their expressions as unreadable as ever. They approached me with the same calm, measured steps, their gazes flicking over me like vultures sizing up their next meal.

“Congratulations,” one of them said, their tone devoid of emotion. “You’ve passed the physical assessment.”

“Barely,” the other added, their lips curling into something that almost resembled a smirk.

I straightened, forcing my trembling hands to still. “What’s next?”

“Your operational readiness has been noted,” the first assessor said, explaining nothing. “You’re cleared to participate in your squad's next mission. Dismissed.”

I nodded, my jaw tight as I turned and made my way toward the exit. The moment I was out of their sight, I slumped against the wall, my legs threatening to give out beneath me. My arm throbbed, the runes pulsing faintly as I fought to keep the magic contained. I needed to get out of here. Fast. I barely made it out of the training floor before my legs threatened to buckle entirely. My arm ached, the runes pulsing with black unlight under my skin, but the worst of it was the exhaustion—bone-deep, dragging at my every step. I had no business walking back on my own, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to stay in HQ’s halls long enough for anyone to notice I was barely keeping it together.

Vivi’s quarters weren’t far. I could make it. The walk felt longer than it should have. The artificial lighting overhead hummed faintly, casting sterile, clinical light against the metal-lined corridors. I kept my head down, jaw clenched as I forced myself forward, each step a battle against my own body.

By the time I reached Vivi’s door, I barely had the energy to knock. Instead, I pressed the panel to let myself in, stumbling forward as the door slid shut behind me.

The slender half-devil was at their desk, buried in paperwork. They didn’t look up at first, their brows furrowed as they scribbled something on a report with mechanical efficiency. “I swear, if this is more paperwork—” they started, before finally glancing up. Their eyes flicked over me, sharp and assessing. “Oh. You look like hell.”

I didn’t even argue. Instead, I just shuffled toward them and, with zero grace, flopped onto their cot.

Vivi blinked at me. “That bad?”

“Passed, at least,” I muttered into the mattress. “Need two hours of unconsciousness, minimum.”

Vivi snorted, spinning their chair to face me fully. “We’ve got a mission briefing soon.”

“I know.” I peeked up at them, my head heavy on my arm. “Two hours. Then food. Then briefing. Please.”

They sighed, pushing away from their desk. “You really are a pain in the ass.”

“Not right now, don't have the stamina for that, now get in here,” I muttered, already shifting to make room as they kicked off their boots and climbed onto the cot beside me.

The moment they settled, I curled into them, pressing my forehead against their shoulder, my arm draped loosely across their waist. Vivi let out a slow exhale but didn’t push me away. Their fingers found my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp, and I practically melted into them.

Neither of us spoke for a long moment. The exhaustion was too thick, the silence too warm. Eventually, though, Vivi let out a quiet chuckle. “You better not drool on me.”

“Not making any promises,” I mumbled, already half-asleep.

They huffed, but their hand kept moving, smoothing down my hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. “Fine. But if I wake up with spit in my collar again, I’m kicking your ass.”

I hummed in response, the weight of exhaustion pulling me down. The mission briefing loomed ahead, but for now, for just a little while, I let myself breathe.

The last thing I felt before sleep claimed me was the steady rise and fall of Vivi’s chest beneath me and the quiet, grounding presence of the one person who'd always had my back since childhood days.